


I Want You

by zulu



Category: House M.D.
Genre: 08-09, F/M, Female Protagonist, Masturbation, Voyeurism, for:shutterbug_12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-28
Updated: 2008-09-28
Packaged: 2017-10-02 01:18:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zulu/pseuds/zulu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Jesus, don't you <i>knock</i>?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Want You

**Author's Note:**

> Happenstance set the vibe that we are in / No apology because my urge is genuine. For shutterbug_12, for the prompt "Stacy walks in on House watching porn."

**I Want You**

Stacy woke up shivering. Scrunching her eyes closed, she squirmed towards the middle of the bed, but instead of rolling into Greg, to rub her hands down his stomach and her icy feet against his calves, there was only a slightly-warmer patch of sheets. She blinked, waking up fully and frowning. Greg might have been paged by the hospital; it wasn't the first time that she'd woken up alone. It never got any easier.

The floor was glacial. Stacy picked up one of Greg's T-shirts and threw it on. Taking the afghan from the foot of the bed, she wrapped it around her shoulders and quick-stepped to the bathroom. She was on her way back to the bedroom, resigning herself to Greg coming home during breakfast for a quick shave and a change of clothes before he ran out the door again--it might be the beginning of days of him nearly living at the hospital--when she noticed the light from the living room. Stacy followed the blue flicker down the hall, stepping carefully on the balls of her feet.

The television caught her attention first. The sound was turned low, so that at first she didn't realize that the breathy moans were the only dialogue. Two women were running their hands over a very well-endowed man, one of them stroking his cock while the other touched herself and moaned as he mouthed her nipples. Stacy caught herself on the verge of laughter, watching the two blondes, improbable breasts bouncing, move towards each other and start kissing. Greg gave a low, appreciative sound, and Stacy's attention was diverted immediately. He was shirtless, his legs sprawled open as he leaned back into the leather, his right hand rubbing absently underneath his boxers. Stacy bit her lower lip, unable to tear her eyes away from him. It was exciting, watching him when he didn't know she was there, and she pulled her blanket tighter around her shoulders. When the scene switched to the women both lavishing their attention on the man's cock, Greg's breath rasped deep in his throat and his forearm tightened, his hand moving more quickly.

There was no way in hell she wasn't going to say anything.

"Blondes?" she asked. "Really?"

Greg jumped nearly a foot, yanking his hand guiltily out of his shorts. "Whoa, Jesus, don't you _knock_?"

"Knock on _what_?" Stacy walked around the couch, holding back her giggles. "This is my living room."

Greg scrambled for the remote, but Stacy darted forward and grabbed it off the coffee table. "Hey!"

"What's it called?" She sat down next to him, pulling her feet up under the blanket and curling against him. The screen was nothing but a closeup of the man fucking one of the women, his cock working like a piston. "Forest Hump? Phallus In Wonderland?"

"No!" Greg squirmed underneath her. "Stacy. Turn it off."

Stacy laughed against his shoulder, then lifted her lips to his earlobe and breathed, "I thought you wanted it on."

"Stace..." Greg swallowed hard.

Stacy slipped her hand out from under the blanket and scraped her fingernails up his thigh. She could feel his breathing quicken, and her heartrate sped up in response. His body was just as warm as she'd hoped, and she wasn't cold any more, tucked up against his side. The sounds from the television faded out, grunts and curses. Stacy rubbed Greg's thigh again, avoiding his erection, smiling at the way he clenched his jaw. "Why didn't you tell me...?"

"You were asleep."

"Mm. I'm awake now."

Greg's eyes slid closed. "This isn't going to cure me of wanting to waking you up with sudden sexual advances."

Stacy caught her breath. "You wanted to wake me up?"

With a sudden grab, he lifted her onto his lap, the blanket falling away. Stacy gasped, the t-shirt riding up enough that there was nothing between them but his boxers. "No, my first thought is always porn, _then_ you."

Stacy closed her eyes and pressed her hips against him. The thought of him waking up, lying next to her, running his hands over her breasts, down to her hips, waking her up with the soft touch of his fingers, his erection nudging against her hip from behind...God, yes. "I always knew you had your priorities mixed up."

Greg smoothed his palms up under the t-shirt, lifting it over her head. "Wanted you," he said. His desperation, the roughness of his voice, made her stomach flutter, pleasure rushing through her veins like adrenaline. He thrust up against her. "Next time I'm waking you up. And saying I told you so."

"Okay," she whispered, and leaned in to kiss him. Feeling how turned on he was--thinking of her--pleasure tingled through her, leaving her breathless. His kiss was intense, as if he'd been waiting too long for the opportunity. Stacy moaned helplessly, tasting him, catching his chin in her hand and tilting his head, then sliding her fingers up into his hair. He opened his mouth further, letting her explore, while his hands moved up to cup her breasts. He pinched her nipples, and Stacy tightened her hands involuntarily in his hair, abandoning herself to the sensation. "Oh--Greg--"

His eyes were steady on hers, dark and intent in the shadows, as he stroked her breasts over and over. "Fuck, can't believe I wanted to be _thoughtful_\--"

"For once," she agreed, laughing breathlessly. His pulsed raced against her fingers, and she moved her hands lower, down his chest to his stomach. "I liked it," she admitted, slipping her hands under his waistband. "You looked good."

He grunted sharply and turned his head aside before turning back with a laugh. "Good?" he asked. "I put on a show for you and all I get is 'good'?"

Stacy skimmed her fingers lower, to feel the fullness of his erection, the way he tried to move into her touch. "I didn't get to see much."

"You interrupted."

"Greg. Shut up." She kissed him again, light and quick. "And take them off."

Their hands tangled, both working to get him free of his shorts. He lifted his hips again, sliding them off, and Stacy pushed against him for a moment before letting him kick them aside. His fingers squeezed her hips as he pulled her down against him. Stacy guided him against her, sinking down on his erection. "Yes," she said, kissing him, her hands moving over his chest, his shoulders. Greg panted, watching her as she moved on top of him. She loved having his eyes on her, his attention focused solely on her. "Better than the blondes?" she asked, without enough breath to laugh again.

Greg thrust up sharply, filling her fully. "Stupid question."

"Oh, thanks." But her sarcasm had lost its bite, as the swirl of feeling sharpened, pushing her towards her orgasm. Greg shuddered underneath her, and he moved his fingers between her legs, rubbing her clit, and Stacy let out a sharp sound, nearly collapsing as heat flooded her thighs and stomach. He lifted the other hand to her cheek, pushing her hair back and pulling her mouth against his, kissing her hard. "Greg--oh, I'm close--"

"Yes," Greg said, so softly that she barely heard him above her own sounds. "Only you, Stace. So good."

His words, his lips against her ear, his body pressed against hers and his fingers sliding between hers; Stacy couldn't hold back, didn't want to, and she let her orgasm flood through her body in a shuddering spasm. A moment later, Greg held her tight against him as he came, his groan muffled against her throat. Her whole body felt loose and satiated, and she draped herself over him, her blanket forgotten in the heat between them. "Oh, God," she said. She couldn't move. It was the last thing she wanted, to separate herself from him.

"If this is how you want to convince me not to watch porn," Greg said, "then I'm in favour."

Stacy turned her face to his, kissing his cheek, the corner of his mouth. "Actually," she said, "I think I like it when you watch porn."

He chuckled silently, his hands still moving across her back. "You might be the best girlfriend ever."

She grinned, and kissed him once more before moving away. "Yeah," she said. "I know."

_end_


End file.
